The Captive King
by Heerayni
Summary: The stiff and golden stamped scroll in his hand slips a bit from his silky grip and it takes all of his endurance and control to not crush it in his palm and destroy it irrevocably. For it is a tangible reminder of what his reticence, pride and impulsiveness has cost him. A Royal wedding announcement from Akielos. Laurent/Damen
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1 :

He wonders in retrospect, when it was that he had truly lost the game?

Was it from the first moment he had laid eyes on the Lion of Akielos; trapped and almost broken in front of him? Tied to the last remnant of his dignity, yet so full of pride?

He closes his eyes for a moment and wonders what servants around him make of him standing here, in the golden cage where he once held a golden lion, and had thought he had tamed that magnificent creature for good.

The stiff and golden stamped scroll in his hand slips a bit from his silky grip and it takes all of his endurance and control to not crush it in his palm and destroy it irrevocably. For it is a tangible reminder of what his reticence, pride and impulsiveness has cost him.

A Royal wedding announcement from Akielos.

King Damianos is to take Rhona of Ios as his bride at the start of the inevitable summer.

'How appropriate!' the thought is bitter like a potent poison in his mind.

A moment of cheer and absolute joy for whole of Akielos, when its king and his greatest adviser and general Nikandros join their families and become brothers-in-law.

Rhona of Ios, Nikandros' sister. He remembers her some from the succession feast. Dark hair, brilliant forest green eyes and an inherent grace that even he had taken notice of. Her smile for Damen had been so familiar and so joyful and Damen in return had been bashful and joyous in return, there had been more on his face for her than for any other ladies that had come to present themselves to the new king of Akielos. It had taken a pinch out of him for a moment, there was history there and a sincere friendship too.

If he thought about it practically, pragmatically, it was more than an ideal match.

But Damen had ripped him open without his knowledge and taken out his practicality and pragmatism and stomped on it with both his feet before replacing both of his most prized qualities with possessiveness and obsession.

He remembers the pain and hurt in those dark eyes, eyes of a king a moment ago, and then of a man who had lost everything. He remembered his words that had caused that pain. He remembers the coldness in his heart once the illusion came to an end.

"I needed a victory at Charcy. You provided it. It was worth enduring your fumbling attentions for that."

In the aftermath and all that had happened at the trial and the Akielon court, he might have foolishly thought that all was forgiven and forgotten.

But Damen had done something that to Laurent, was uncharacteristic.

He had remembered that conversation. He had remembered it and then taken it for what it was.

Damen had surrendered to his scheme and his demands. As a king Damen had given in. But not as a lover.

Days following that conversation, Damen had processed it. Had tried to beat the hurt out of his heart, that Laurent had so mercilessly wounded.

And Laurent had seen all of it at a distance. Watched carefully as a brave Lion licked at his wounds.

And Laurent had played another more elaborate game.

And Laurent had apparently won that game as well.

And Laurent had also realized how much he genuinely loved Damianos.

How much he desired Damen.

How enslaved and tangled he was.

That was mistake that he cannot bring himself to call one.

What Laurent had not seen, what outcome Laurent had not worked out was

That Damen had conquered the hurt Laurent had inflicted.

That where Laurent took heart and warmth from Damen, learnt to embrace the spirit of sacrifice.

Damen had taken pragmatism and an un-erring memory from Laurent.

He had hoped in his secret heart that following the trial and their successions, Damen would declare his love for Laurent again and this time, Laurent would embrace it. Laurent would declare back. He had hoped for it, expected it, was sure of it…

But it never came. As Laurent tended to his new kingdom and assisted Damen in tending to his own during his recuperation, he started to come across a strange fortification around Damen's heart that was flexible but impregnable for Laurent.

Damen had fought for Laurent, was ready to lay his life for Laurent. Would take an arrow, sword, dagger to the heart for Laurent, without a second thought.

But 'Damianos' would not let Laurent hold that heart any longer.

And Laurent's pride was always his downfall.

Laurent had forgotten, Laurent had hoped, but Damianos had not forgotten. Damianos no longer held any hope for him.

And Laurent's pride was stiff enough to not beg, grovel or even express his true heart to Damianos.

His heart aches enough now to feel as if it would kill him.

Damen. His Damen in hands of someone else.

In bed of someone else.

If only he had given just a little bit.

It did not have to be in front of anyone. None of their confessions ever were, which was why he thought he had estimated Damen so accurately.

He had taken and taken and given only a little bit back, and that too he had soiled in the worst possible way. He had infected Damianos with the worst of him. And now he suffers for it with every passing moment and every breath inhaled.

Everything in the room has remained as it was when Damen occupied it.

And how beautifully Damen had trapped Laurent.

With a single move against hundreds of Laurent's, Damen had won this game.

Laurent would go see Damianos of Akielos pledging himself and his heart to someone else even if it killed him.

He touches the golden brace on his wrist reverently.

He has lost this game. He deserves the loser's shame.

He will make it through this. He is defeated, not dead.

Wasn't that what Auguste always said?

"Defeat is never worse than death. Arrogant people will tell you otherwise. But defeat is just a chance to gather your wits and try again. Defeat is never the end if you come out of it alive. It gives you a chance to improve yourself. It strengthens you and shows you your own flaws. When you get back from a defeat, you only become stronger."

He will correct his mistakes and get back up again. Even if he never succeeds


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

"Kingship has changed you…"

It is more the tone than the voice that brings Laurent out of his thoughts.

He looks at his councilor, a hot wave of anger rises in his chest at the poorly hidden pity on her face.

This is another of the many things that Damen has changed. Contaminated. Destroyed _. 'Cultivated' a thought whispers._

His anger, his madness now boils inside him, like a volatile acid rather than the freezing crystalizing, blizzard that it used to be.

He wants to wring Vannes' neck with his hands. And it makes him even angrier that this is what he wants.

Is there no escape from these barbaric impulses? His rational-self despairs dramatically.

No, there is always an escape. If he would just stop feeling.

But that has always been his problem. He has always felt too much.

Feeling is a sure-fire death of reason.

Since when did his inner-most secrets become common known facts for others to comment upon? Harp on?

"Change is essential for progress. I think we can all do with a little change." He says calmly.

The look in her eyes changes with his utterance.

A little respect shows through, and it's encouraging.

He forgives her a little. Another change brought by Damen. Vannes is a vital part of his council. But lately she has been too intent on looking behind his veil. She is experienced and sharp enough to see how it is depleting his strength.

He grits his teeth at his unintended show of affection that the wedding invitation has caused in the fortnight since its arrival, but he is trying to gain back ground.

He has his dignity and she has her place which she should be watching. Perhaps a rebuke is in order he thinks.

He shoots a look at her, subtle enough to be informing but not insulting. Not at this stage.

"How is Aquitart treating Prince Torveld?"

He asks Herode, washing his already clean fingers in the bowl. He doesn't think he can stand the sight of food for a moment more. Another give-away of the turmoil inside him.

"He's been on a few hunting trips. Has been negotiating a deal with a local breeder on supplying steeds to improve his mountain regiment's patrolling reach. He's been very generous, his soldiers have been aiding the locals in building reinforcements to the outer walls of the castle, and also in training the green recruits in your majesty's garrison settled at Aquitart, with the recent changes there have been quite a few volunteers coming in from the local villages. It is estimated that by coming winter, the garrison may be a Thousand strong."

How Laurent wishes he could go to Aquitart. Away from court, in his own little corner of the world and relive the pleasant memories made there in peace.

This desire, he assures himself has nothing to do with how he would be halfway closer to Ios. Perhaps half better at peace.

Vannes pulls him out of his thoughts again.

"My king, the Kyros of Ios will depart from Merlas with his retinue on the morrow in order to officially bring you the invitation of your Brother King's wedding according to the Veretian traditions. Radal informs me that all preparations are underway for his stay at the palace." Vannes says with a blank face, nodding at Radal who stands to the side, hands held in front, in perfect posture. How Damen had struggled under Radal's tutelage. The memory of it strange and hollowing for Laurent.

"I don't think I need to stress on the importance of everything being flawless. My brother king is to marry and I want everyone to see how we rejoice in his happiness. The games, the feasts, prepare everything as perfectly as you would if it was your own king's royal wedding."

Just because Laurent's emotions are all over the place since the arrival of the announcement, it does not mean that his policies are all over the place too.

He is taking refuge behind elaborate customs, temporary as that refuge may be.

He needs to catch his breath, stifle this internal bleeding before he jumps into the melee of wills against Damianos again.

"Your will shall be done my king." Radal bows reverently.

If Damen wants a wedding. He will have a wedding. Vere has always taken pride in its extravagance. And Laurent knows how this very Veretian flamboyance and extravagance chafes at Damen's simplistic Akielon sensibilities.

Sometimes Laurent's schemes are nothing but an impulse, and instinct.

He is still undecided in his diagnosis.

He still is on boundary regarding the intention behind Damianos' wedding.

Naturally and politically, it is important for Damianos to wed and provide the throne with an heir. Nikandros' sister is an ideal candidate to provide Akielos with an heir and be its queen.

Even his own council has brought up this topic time and time again since his settling the court at Arles.

Yet.

An undeniable part of him feels as if this wedding is Damianos' retaliation towards him. A punishment. And by making the wedding a spectacle Laurent will embrace his punishment so vehemently that it will give even Damen a pause as to what to make of it.

Yet.

Another stubbornly hopeful and probably foolish part of him whispers that perhaps Damen wants him to retaliate, fight back against this wedding and try to reclaim Damen for his own. Perhaps this wedding is Damen's attempt to force Laurent to declare his feelings for Damen. To beg and plead. Break down that wall Damen has built around his heart. Perhaps it's natural even. Now that Damen has taken Laurent's ability to build walls around his heart and soul, that Laurent should borrow Damen's ability to ram and break through those walls.

It leaves a bitter taste in his mouth.

Always being forced to change himself. To become what he isn't.

He is always at war with himself. With what is his duty and what he desires?

He never wanted to fight. He was made to. At expense of his love for knowledge.

He never wanted to be king. He was forced to become one. At expense of his beloved brother.

He never wanted to love. He was forced to. At expense of his dignity and secrecy.

Now he has to earn back that love, if it even is possible? If he should give space to that hope, if he is being forced to, it will be at the expense of going against his very own nature.

But Laurent will not give in to all of it without at least embarrassing Damen a little bit by making his 'wedding' a spectacle.

If Damen is setting a board again, if he lets himself hope again, then Laurent is going to play, but he will play by his own rules.

He might lose again.

And badly.

But he might win.

Damen loves him, he knows this as he knows that the sun rises in the East and sets in the West.

And Laurent has been brutal with Damen's heart.

Careless, because he never thought that Damen would ever give him up.

He never thought there was a limit to Damen's endurance against Laurent's vicious blows.

He deserves to be punished, but when has he ever given weight to what is deserved?

He wants Damen. Wants to be the only one that possesses Damen.

Because the harsh truth of the matter is, where Damen has a big enough heart to give away again and again, and Laurent knows that Damen will love him forever. It will not stop him from loving Rhona.

But Laurent will only ever love Damen.

His heart is only big enough to contain Damen inside it.

His heart is not strong enough to give Damen up.

His heart is not brave enough to sacrifice himself one more time.

His heart will never recover from this blow. It will implode and perhaps turn him into a monster.

It will turn him into his uncle.

An unfeeling, craven, scheming, disgusting and self-serving creature.

Because all of the good that has been in Laurent before meeting Damen, and all of that Damen awoke in him will die with this blow.

He knows his propensity to cruelty.

He knows how far he can go. And went.

And he did that to the man he loves with all of his heart.

If he loses Damen for good, he will never be able to reconcile his own cruelty with himself. If Damen does not forgive him and does not love him back, he will rot inside.

No. He is wrong.

He will be worse than his uncle.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Just when he thinks the fight is almost over, the blows start to come faster.

He parries one and sidesteps another, his breath catching a little.

Next one comes full blast over his left side and the jarring impact on his blade makes his teeth grind.

He has grown to love moments like these. When a fight could go either way. When you really started to doubt if this was just a practice or were you really fighting for your life. There was some kind of fondness for him in every kind of deception. It reminds him of 'the one'.

His opponent is almost as skilled as him. Strong and a little too familiar with his moves.

But there were a few new things he has learned recently.

His father always said,

" _A true warrior never stops learning, he learns from his friends, he learns from his foe, he learns from peace, he learns from war, he learns from every adversity and every miracle. A true warrior is the one who makes learning his greatest weapon and understanding his shield."_

A sliver of a second of hesitation from his opponent at his fake skidding and his blade has crossed the safe barrier of the foil armor and touched the lightly bearded chin of his opponent.

Nikandros blinks down at him, as if he can't believe it.

Damen smiles at him before pulling himself up from the half kneeling position he had taken to show as if he had lost his balance and was ripe for the taking.

"You tricked me." Nikandros whispers. His hand loosening on his practice sword.

"You let yourself be tricked." Damen whispers back smiling in a way that he knows really irritates Nikandros.

He turns away and nods at a servant who rushes to him to help his remove his foil breast plate.

His muscles feel well-worked and there is a pleasantly weary buzz in his head.

A smile of a memory.

Where everyone else is aghast of what this warrior has learnt from his 'once' foe.

He only feels a strange sort of alleviation when everything that Laurent has changed in him displays itself. He feels it like a mark on his skin. He sees it as a gold brace on his wrist.

Damen can never begrudge Laurent for how he has changed him.

Wiser, stronger, sharper.

Honor, pride and justice are only applicable when all sides valued them the same.

Laurent has taught him that the rules always belong to the perpetrator.

And that one understanding was perhaps the most important of all his lessons.

Especially when he had to deal with the rest of the South, after his taking of Ios.

Ellium and Thrace were a challenge.

Kingsmeet and its whole guard had to be tried.

The nobility in those regions had always been at each other throats.

Kastor had played one family against the other and given power to those who declared their support for him.

So while the Kyros of Ellium, Rakander had flocked to Kastor's side.

The Kyros of Thrace, young and the noble, Alvaros, A childhood friend of Nikandros and Damianos had been unseated and implicated in the 'murder' of Damianos because some of the prince's house-hold guard who had been slaughtered were from Thrace.

It was only fortune or perhaps a scheme of his brother's that Alvaros had not been tried and executed straight away. His execution would have made people of Thrace revolt against the new Kyros and Kastor in extension and as it was Thrace was the biggest source of food supply to the Capital.

The new Kastor- appointed Kyros of Thrace, Salvador was also from a powerful family and was not going to give back the seat of Thrace without a fight after Ios was reclaimed.

Foolish on his part.

Damianos was not the same man anymore.

He took a leaf out of Laurent's book.

Spies and birds, and unveiling secret positions.

It took him a month. But in the end when one's family is abducted and imprisoned. One has to give in.

And give in Salvador did.

And Damianos has sent Salvador into exile on pain of death, his heir has been sent to Sicyon as a ward, and his family under Alvaros' protection in Thrace.

Rakander on the other hand was craven enough to come back into Damianos' fold in order to save his skin.

Damianos gave his seat to his step-brother Sorokoras and made Rakander the warden of sea-hold of Isthima. A small position of power and comfortable living, but far-removed from his court and council. And all correspondences under watch.

He would not have been able to deal with all had he not learnt under Laurent's un-intentional tutelage.

"I don't know if I should be awe-struck or angry with you these days."

Nikandros says as he slips into the warm bath opposite him, bringing him out of his thoughts.

A pretty slave with long dark hair and full lips slips alongside him and Damen shifts a little, a reflex, too quick for him consciously block.

Nikandros' eyes narrow a bit.

"I did not invite you to bathe with me." He scolds half-heartedly. Smiling guiltily at being caught in his unease. He is secretly pleased with how casual and reminiscent of old times his friendship with Nikandros has become.

"You did not instruct me otherwise, Exalted." Nikandros' says impishly and shakes his head at the slave girl who quietly yet gracefully climbs out of the bath. Her naked form enough to make any man's core shudder and take heat.

But all it reminds Damianos of is pale skin and blonde hair and bondage.

He looks away and down only to meet Nikandros' scrutiny.

Once the slave is out of sight, Nikandros sighs as if preparing for a speech.

"It's not what you think." Damianos says before Nikandros can utter a single word.

"I would like to know what it is then if you would tell me, though you do not owe me."

"It's not because of Laurent…" Nikandros looks at him in disbelief.

"They brought in a slave to wash me in slave's bath after I was taken by Kastor's men. To prepare me to be sent as a gift to the prince of Vere. They tried with soldiers but I would not be contained, so they brought in a slave. A pale and blonde slave girl. And she washed me to be made into a slave from a prince. To this day I can feel her touch on my skin as it is so closely associated with the closest and most intimate betrayals. Her touch will always remind me of how I was killed. Betrayed by my own blood, my brother, betrayed by my own heart, the woman I thought I loved and then betrayed by my own body, because despite all of that I was going through, my body still responded to her touch. It was the ultimate loss of control and I can never stand it again."

The paleness of Nikandros' face is enough to give him pause. He forgets that being in Vere had acclimatized him to his slavery in a vastly different way, but what he has disclosed to Nikandros, as an Akeilon is devastating and brutal. Schemes are against their very grain, betrayal is monstrous and not pragmatic.

So.

He does not mention that he was betrayed yet again, but this time by the touch of his master. His beloved. How his desire and love and stupid, stupid trust was thrown back in his face.

He knows the feelings and emotions were always real between Laurent and Damen.

But could he trust his own knowledge and instinct after being slapped in the face for it so many times in the face?

Feelings matter little when the actions that follow them leave one bleeding and suffocating again and again.

To love someone and be beaten down by them, again and again.

Beaten down and reeled back in because he was a prized fighter, a formidable general and naïve enough to fall for the same trick again and again.

His love had allowed him to play the game Laurent was playing to the end.

The Kingsmeet and all that had followed was his final letter and his last action to be led by the love he felt for Laurent.

He had been on a path and it needed a conclusion. He would die or he would win.

He had won, but with that last stab of Kastor's knife he had let his naiveté bleed out of him.

His love had to be contained and stalled away. His trust separated from it.

He had Laurent to thank for this too. For a different perspective. An understanding for different sensibilities that will help in future relations between their vastly different cultures and values.

He was a king now. He had to think that way, learn it all as millions of people depended on his intelligence now.

He still loves Laurent with all the heat of the blood in his veins.

But he will not be used by Laurent again.

He will not kneel and surrender again.

He will never trust his 'knowing and feeling' again.

He will still give in to his desire, to see Laurent, to behold him in all his glorious splendor.

King of Vere, the king of his captive heart.

But he would never again let himself live inside that captive heart again.

He will tame himself by the pragmatism and sensibility Laurent has armed him with. But before all that learning can come to fruition.

He needs to see Laurent. In his own habitat. In the world Laurent has made for himself.

He could never keep away from Laurent. He would not weaken himself with pining and longing.

Which was why he is leaving Merlas with Nikandros the next day for Arles. Without Laurent's knowledge.

He needs to see Laurent one last time as just himself, as Damen. Before he ties himself as Damianos to another.

He needs to see because he can't risk to just feel.

He needs to indulge in his instinct this last time before he shuts it away forever and devotes his affection to another.

He would never love Rhona, they both know that.

But he will adore her.

And for him to do that, he needs to free at least his adoration from the one who holds all of it, iron-tight in his silky grip.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

As he walks out of the council hall he notices that the day light is already fading.

The air is cool and soft but carries a promise of a chillier night.

His ever vigilant guards walk beside him at a little distance as if trying to give him a little sense of privacy. As he makes his way, away from his private rooms.

Seven more days and Nikandros will be here.

Watching his every move like a hawk.

He would delude himself that it is Damianos that has asked him to do so.

But he knows Nikandros by now.

They say, never claim to understand a man you have not travelled with or shared food with.

He has done both with Nikandros.

And he knows Nikandros with his straight mind, and very observant nature knows him better than perhaps even Damianos does.

Laurent smiles to himself.

There was a moment, a slight moment, when Laurent had felt that cutting jealousy towards Nikandros too.

When he had observed how intimate his friendship with Damen was.

How Nikandros and Damen seemed to have whole conversations by just looking at each other.

Nikandros' love and devotion to Damianos, his prince and then his king has always been without question.

A friendship forged on a children's playground. Two little boys rough-housing in the sand in that golden Akielon heat.

Scraps and tugs and laughter.

On the other side was,

Humiliation, betrayal, and pain.

That is what doused his jealousy in that fateful second.

He can never be compared to or weighed against Nikandros.

Which is why, only now he was realizing what a puzzle Damen was.

To know a friendship and trust like Nikandros'.

And to still give Laurent a place in his heart.

There is light and shadows that surround this puzzle in Laurent's mind.

The thought that perhaps Damen found some nobility and loyalty in him and his actions, and thought him brave on some level, is a bright one. If so, he knows he will need to find and engulf in himself or even if it does not exist at all, to implant these qualities in himself.

But then there is the thought, that in his ultimate betrayal, indignity and humiliation, perhaps the only way for Damianos to survive with his sanity intact was to latch all his positive aspirations to Laurent. Laurent who was confusing and manipulative, but still better than many others that Laurent had made Damen observe as his pet and slave. Laurent who had tortured him physically and mentally but still provided him with food and comfort and never used him as a bed-slave. Laurent who had such a pitiful excuse for a benefit of doubt.

It makes him sick. To think the latter could be the truth of it. He has never been able to see any nobility in himself. And if Damen's stops seeing any in him, what would be left for him?

His conduct since the day Damen had arrived had never been dictated by Damen at all. Until he had seen all of Damen's capacity. From then on, his actions had been to get what he wanted and to make Damen act a certain way to Laurent's advantage. And he had succeeded exceedingly.

He had saved Damen's life after the assassination attempt on him because he knew Damen was integral to his plan of over-throwing his uncle. Damen was his trump card against his uncle.

And Damen proved to be so again and again.

Laurent _is_ now King of Vere.

He had been extremely pleased with his successful usage of Damen then.

Or so he thought.

The truth he now realizes was somewhat different.

The truth was that with every scheme of Laurent's Damen fell into.

Laurent was falling for Damen.

He thought his knowledge of Damen's true identity was his biggest advantage. He never realized that a part of him was also calculating the merits of all that Damen did for him in lieu of who Damen actually was.

Damen showed trust, devotion, and patience. For a Prince who was his sworn enemy.

Things that Laurent craved secretly. Things that Laurent deeply and madly wanted to have.

Damen was being used in Laurent's grand-scheme of things, but Damen was sinking his claws deeper and deeper inside Laurent as well.

There had been no escaping it, Laurent thinks now that he sees it all.

Damen was what Auguste would have been.

Damianos had killed Auguste, but wasn't that what Damianos was supposed to do? How could he not defend himself against his enemy?

Damianos and Auguste had fought on the battlefield and they had both fought honorably, it was just that Damianos had won. Had Auguste won, then Damianos would have met the same fate Auguste did.

His hatred for Damianos had always been extreme but based on a very weak claim.

More than anything Auguste would have appreciated dying by the hand of a worthy opponent.

Damianos had suffered for a victory that was well-earned, and because it was Laurent who had paid for that victory, Damen had suffered.

It was an unrelenting cycle of foolishness on his part. And a part of him knew it.

Damianos father had instigated the war in the first place.

Laurent's uncle had made sure that the war went through during which he killed Laurent's father.

And on and on the poison of his thoughts churned. With his acidic hatred always winning because of his warped sense of justice.

Until the days leading to Kingsmeet, none of Laurent's actions had ever been to seem a certain way in Damen's view. No his actions had always been to make Damen behave a certain way.

Laurent was who he was.

That first night he had given himself to Damen, had also started as a manipulation.

He knew what would seal Damen's ultimately to his cause. And so naturally he had to give himself to Damen. There had to be some kind of payoff to make Damen stay on his own volition.

He laughs to himself, and shakes his head.

How naïve it was to think that he could dance with fire wearing gauze and make it out without a blister?

He knew it was a mistake making love for the second time that first night.

But he had lost control way before that.

And the next time he had given himself to Damianos had all been his heart, but, Damianos had not believed it, He had caressed it, loved it, worshipped it but Damianos had refused to hold it.

His chest hurts and his legs tremble with the memory of Damen's body against his and he stops only to realize that he has stopped just a few steps away from what his destination has been all along.

He wants to laugh even louder when he realizes there are tears in his eyes.

He's thrown himself on his own dagger.

His loneliness comes crowding in around him like a sea of blackness.

He's gotten everything he wanted.

But lost the one thing he needed.

Damen.

Damen.

Damen.

Damianos….

"Lolo!" The delighted sound brings him out of the blackness.

Like a piercing sword of light.

"Lolo! Lolo! Lolo!" He looks up to see chubby hands and smiling face looking at him, beckoning him.

He can't resist those beautiful huge almond eyes and that drooling smile.

"Lolo! Lolo! Lolo!" Darius coos at him as he reaches for the baby in the Nurse-maid's arms.

Darius lets out a delightful shriek as Laurent throws him up into the air.

And just like that the darkness in his heart recedes completely.

Dark curls are soft under his fingers as Darius lays both his hands on Laurent's face and looks into his eyes, first one then the other, as if peering into his soul as Laurent looks back into his beautiful dark eyes. It is such a peculiar way of greeting but it has been so from the first day that Laurent had held this baby in his arms.

And then come the wet kisses. He pretends to try and save himself from them which delights Darius even more as he giggles and attacks Laurent.

Such a happy baby. So vital and full of joy.

He wonders aglow, if Damen had been similar as a baby.

Darius is Damen's nephew after all.

It is always a tragedy to separate a child from his mother.

But Jokaste had made that choice from the get very start.

Laurent had offered to take Darius, then only two months old, as his ward and Damen had accepted.

Becoming Laurent's ward would keep Darius out of Akielon Politics and prepare him for a future in Vere as he would always be a liability in Akielos. Akielons did not hold Kastor's memory fondly.

Jokaste had brought forward the token protest. But her exile to the Vaskian court had made those protests futile.

As it was Darius was to be under Laurent's protection.

And If Laurent devoted himself to his ward and was a complete pushover for the year-old's kisses and giggles, it was none of anyone's business but his own.

Once the messy greetings are done with and Darius has somewhat calmed babbling into Laurent's shoulder and drooling all over his brilliant velvet coat, Laurent looks to Mira and Sonja, Darius' nursemaids.

"How is the cold now?" he asks them rocking Darius a little in his arm.

"All signs of it receded by noon-time your Majesty," Mira answers her eyes deflected.

"And food?" he asks Sonja.

"Still not taking carrots, my Exalted, I do not understand, carrots always favourite before."

"You can speak to me in Akeilon Sonja." He smiles at the Akeilon woman.

"Then I never learn Veretian. Exalted." Sonja says a determined expression on her face.

But how can he tell her how speaking Akeilon make him feel an inch closer to Damen.

Damen who spoke flawless Veretian but always switched to Akeilon when his emotions got the best of him.

Angry, delighted, in throes of passion.

He takes a deep breath and looks down at the infant who seems to be settling in for a doze. And nods to the nurse-maids, dismissing them.

He walks to the sitting area to the soft and well-placed chair in front of the fire-place which is his perch most evenings and sits down as Mira and Sonja return to the nursery to do whatever they do every evening.

He reclines settling Darius against his chest who coos softly and plays with the gold cuff on his wrist before his attention is taken over by the smooth large and bright blue, drop-shaped Lapis pendant on his chest that Darius promptly starts to chew on while rubbing his chubby golden-pink cheek against the soft velvet of Laurent's coat.

He removes the delicate circlet from his head, a sign of his kingship, carefully, without jostling Darius cooing at his Jewel chew-toy, and places it on the side table where lays a stack of his books one of many signs of his frequent presence in the room. He ignores them for now and runs his fingers through soft black curls and softly starts singing the song he'd heard Akielon soldiers sing while they travelled towards Merlas, and finally recognized it as tune that Damen often hummed to himself when he was distracted while riding alongside Laurent all through their long fateful journey.

 _Sweet and cool is joyful peach,_

 _The garden, the rock, the sea the heat_

 _That is where live all warriors brave_

 _My home, beloved Akeilon, sandy and sweet…_


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

The over-cast makes the red of the flapping banners even brighter against the green earth. Over the night the weather's taken a strange turn. Which is only right, because even nature has to be dramatic when Akielos meets Vere, Laurent thought, perched gracefully on his silver steed, the red banners in his sight moving slowly but surely towards the reception ground that had been prepared just on the outskirts of Arles.

News had reached him the night before that the Akielos delegation had settled for the night about three hours outside of the city walls in order to be received officially this morning.

"That seems like most of the royal court of Akielos than just Nikandros' delegation." Vannes murmured to him under breath.

Laurent does not answer her. His eyes fixed on the riders that ride ceremoniously in a straight line before the center starts to part and two rider emerge from the center.

His heart stops for a beat.

He would recognize that perch and that riding stance anywhere, from however far.

He has it printed on the colourful tapestries of his mind.

He almost does not want to hope for a moment, almost inspects himself to see if he is hallucinating.

He is not.

"Only appropriate, as the King of Akielos himself rides to Arles, don't you think?"

He only stops to see the widening of Vannes' eyes, only to see that she understands what he has just implied and only to read that he needs her to stay put while he…

He rides forth. Without a thought, a plan, or better judgment.

As soon as his horse gains speed, he can see Nikandros falling back.

It fills his heart with an ache that even after so many endless days and so many endless league between them, they still have this link of mutual thoughts.

He care some, but very little regarding what his assembled court or his soldiers of anyone in the whole world would think about this.

So filled is his heart with joy and disbelief that he cares little.

Damianos

Damianos

Damianos

Damen…

He sees Damianos pull back on his horse, slowing to an almost stop before he jumps down his horse.

He starts to do the same. His eyes fixed on the golden helmet which hides most of that face.

His horse has not fully stopped before he has one foot out of the stirrup and his leg already unwound to jump off his horse. He jumps off as soon as possible, a few steps away from his surprise guest.

Damen smiles at him like the sun, his eyes bright, as if Laurent is the most important thing in the universe. Laurent has no idea what his face is doing only that his chest hurts and he can hardly breathe for it. He does not know if his steps are well calculated as he closes the distance between them, his heart beating like a drum. His eyes want to fill and he wants to cry. He wants to sob and he is barely held together.

His breath catches when Damianos takes hold of him, when did he cross the chasm of the few steps between the? The smile from Damianos' face is gone, there is a deep sadness there as he hungrily looks into Laurent's eyes.

"Damen…" he manages to whisper before he is engulfed in those strong arms.

The scent of him so familiar. His fingers scramble for purchase on that Iron clad back as he buries his face in the crook of Damen's neck, inhaling deeply, as if he hasn't breathed for centuries.

I love you. His heart beats.

"I wanted to surprise you. You might scold me later, but it was worth it." Damen murmurs in his ear in that beautiful accented Veretian, still holding him, crushing Laurent to himself, his tone and his hold don't match at all.

"It is a pleasant surprise indeed…" Laurent answers, making sure that his voice does not give away his turmoil.

'I love you Damen, I can't be without you.' is what he actually wants to say

Damen pulls Laurent back from himself and looks at his face as if he wants to devour it and Laurent childishly wants to cling back to that broad lightly armored chest and escape from those dark eyes.

"How can it be possible that you have grown even more beautiful in the time since I saw you last?"

Damianos himself looks like a deity taken human form.

His curls are longer, his skin more vital and golden than ever. His shoulders even broader than before.

That body is King Damianos of Akielos from neck to toes.

That face though. That face is his Damen. Luscious lips straight nose, square jaw and big dark almond eyes generously lashed and so expressive.

"How have you grown even larger in the time since I saw you last?"

His steel clad chest rumbles in a deep laughter under the flat of his hands.

"I apparently can't stop…" Damen says, shrugging in that carefree princely way he always did. His hands holding both of Laurent's wrists now, his fingers caressing the Gold brace identical to the one Damen still wears himself.

"Neither can I…" Laurent answers. Smirking a little at how Damen's eyes darken even more.

"No… that would be a travesty." Damen almost whispers, his hands tightening dangerously on his wrist.

A drop of rain falls splat on Damen's nose before Laurent can answer. Shaking them both out of their trance and Laurent realizes where they actually are.

"Welcome to Arles my brother king." He says stepping out of Damen's grip and putting forward his golden braced hand.

Damen just nods smiling a much benign smile taking Laurent's hand with a similarly brace one.

"Thank you! It is good to be finally welcomed properly."

And if Laurent were anyone else he would have missed the slight perturbed look in Damen's eyes as turns his eyes towards the façade at Laurent's back.

And Laurent despairs. As has become his lot in life.

The rest of the day light is wasted on honors, courtesies and respects paid.

Laurent feels like he is crawling out of his skin sitting next to Damianos, King of Akielos in the throne room and not being able to say a word he actually means.

But the worst part, if he is honest with himself, are the felicitations delivered.

Best wishes to the King of Akielos and his Queen on their upcoming nuptials.

It sickens him.

He has not congratulated Damianos.

And he can see that Damianos has keenly noticed this.

And it is the reaction to this notice that is really weighing heavy on Laurent's heart.

Damianos is worried. Damianos is not smug or triumphant or wry.

Damianos is worried.

Lunch hour comes and goes and the felicitations continue.

It is a few hours from sunset that he stands and declares that the King of Akielos will retire and those unable to pay their respects may do so the day after.

He walks out of the Throne room alongside Damianos. And once inside the corridors of the Silver palace he signals his guards to stay back. As he walks into the Royal quarters. Where he has arranged for Damianos to stay the duration of his stay in Vere.

Nikandros and most of Damianos court have been moved into the pre-arranged quarters.

He steps into the shared attendance hall, just a room that divides their personal spaces. Leading Damianos towards his resting rooms.

"Here we are." He says as he enters the room and signals the prostrated servants to get out.

The reason for choosing these rooms in particular is how different they are from Laurent's room and the rooms where he had kept Damen.

These rooms face towards the Great mountain forests and once belonged to his Queen mother.

"That is a beautiful view." Damen says, a peculiar expression in his voice.

Laurent turns to look at Damen and is arrested by how Damen's eyes are fixed on him.

But no, he will not give in to this. Not yet. He needs to understand, make sure what is going on here.

"I guess congratulations are in order." He says moving briskly towards Damen. His hands deftly reaching for the shoulder clasp that holds Damen's luscious and resplendent cloak, with its blood red colour and gold accents. Damen stands still. Stone still as Laurent attends to him.

It takes him a few seconds to gain his voice again.

"What are you doing Laurent?" he asks, his voice pained and deep. Eyes cast down.

Laurent can't understand this reaction. He feels as if he is missing something.

"Attending you…"

Laurent can see the words Damen's lips are about to make and so he places the tips of his fingers over them.

"Attending you, because I want to."

They are close now. So close that he can feel Damen's warm breath on his face, can almost hear Damen's heart beat in sync with his, because this is Damen, not Damianos, King of Akielos. This is his Damen, with his unblinking, truthfully adoring stare. A stare that says that he can't believe Laurent is a real person, such is his perfection. A stare that says that I will follow you and defend you to the end of the world. There is love in that stare and there is trust and for a moment. A fleeting moment, Laurent can see how within his grasp it all is.

In his heart he prays to the Gods that always take Damen's face in his imagination.

"Please let me have this. Please do not let me ruin this. Let me have this, let me have my Damen."

He realizes entirely that there will always be a king and a Slave when it comes to him and Damen.

And oh, how the tables have turned!


End file.
